The Redhead-Brunette Alliance : A series of Romione Oneshots
by Julie Tulips
Summary: I've been coming up with a bunch of Romione oneshot ideas, so I decided to make it into one big story. In here you will find depressing oneshots, adorable oneshots, romantic oneshots, funny one shots, and basically any type of oneshot you can think of. Please enjoy, rate and review. Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter, the Harry Potter world or any of the characters.
1. 1: I Waited For You

**I Waited for You**

**Type: Sad**

Every day, coming home from school, I saw him. The old man sat on that soiled, chipped bench by the garbage cans that no one ever used anymore – it had simply become part of the underground landscape. The transfer machines beeped and the crows rushed on, leaving unnoticed the man sitting at the foot of the stairs. His hair was grey, but not the pearly grey that brown hair becomes – nor the white that follows blonde hair. I figured his old hair must've been another color – red, perhaps. He had the appearance of someone who had once been in excellent physical shape, an athlete, maybe. His eyes were a very light, clear blue, far too quirky for an old man, but also naïve. He never took his eyes off one spot – the staircase from which the crowds emerged onto the station and dispersed to the shops and exits.

I noticed once a wedding ring on his finger. "Good," I thought. "So he's not alone." I didn't notice him much after that, for the longest time. One day, I was returning from a friend's house on a Sunday, and I saw him sitting there again. I became curious. I sat at the other end of the bench, pretending to tie my shoe, then greeted him with an awkward "Good morning, sir."

He gave a slight nod and then continued looking at the stairs. There was no one there. "Who are you waiting for?" I asked.

"My wife," He answered without looking at me. I wondered if he /could/ take his eyes off the stairs. Maybe after all these years, it wasn't possible. I was getting a bit bored of him – I was hoping he'd be more interesting.

"She works on Sundays?"

"She works every day in the Ministry of Ma- In the Ministry. Government."

I paused. This was boring. "What's her name?" I asked politely, getting up to leave.

"Hermione," He whispered. It was eerie, hearing him talk in such a voice in the empty station. I grabbed by bag and waved goodbye, streaking up the stairs.

Overnight, however, I had grown curious still. I wondered what his wife looked like, what he was like when he wasn't alone – and I was determined to find out.

The next day, I saw him waiting again, around six. I got some ice cream from a nearby shop and sat in a booth, glancing at him every now and then. Suddenly, around eight, when the Underground was nearly empty, he stood up and started walking towards the stairs. I ran after him.

When he saw me, he stopped. We looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds until I finally blurted out, "But – your wife? Where is she? She hasn't come yet."

"Of course she has," He answered. "She always comes. She promised to never keep me waiting."

And so as he walked up the stairs I realized what it all meant. The ring, the waiting, and his longing look towards the stairs. He knew there was no one coming. He knew that she was dead. He knew she was gone. And I didn't know if he was insane, or irrationally hopeful… but something, something powerful, was making him come every day and wait for his beloved Hermione.

I didn't go home that night – I called my parents to say I was sleeping over at a friend's.

I sat on the bench and I looked at the stairs until the sun came up.

Just in case he had missed her.


	2. 2: Those Damn Spiders Again

**Title: Those Damn Spiders Again**

**Type: Cute/Romantic**

The minutes were ticking away.

I remember dashing around the house like mad, trying to balance pumpkins, burning candles, plastic letters in faded, scratched orange and grey-black, a box of jumbled-up Halloween paraphernalia (Hermione taught me that word, doesn't it sound smart?), a toddler and a screaming baby boy.

Finally, I stuck up some half-matched decorations onto the outside of the door. It was freezing cold and the wind swept across my thin t-shirt, but I knew Hermione would be furious if she came home from her late shift and the decorations weren't up yet. I stuck a bottle in Hugo's mouth and a toy dinosaur in Rosie's and put them into a room with a minimal number of breakable things. Hopefully they'll fall asleep soon. I love them, but damn kids can be bloody annoying sometimes…

I tore open the box with a spell, my wand hidden under my arm. I pocketed it and found some streamers (of course in orange and black – worst colors EVER), a plastic skeleton and – _oh Merlin_.

WHY WOULD HERMIONE DO THIS TO ME?!

I threw the giant plastic spiders down the walkway and ran away without really knowing where I was going. My forehead hit the closed door and I tripped over the welcome mat and fell, the cold ground smashing me in the face. My wand fell out of my pocket, rolling down the stone steps and into a groove, vanishing in the darkness. My body was shaking as I visualized those awful giant things coming to life. Was she insane?! Had I done something wrong?!

I heard Hugo crying indoors and I bit my lip. I couldn't just leave him alone, but at the same time – those plastic eyes seemed vigilant, waiting for me to shift or move to spring to life, seizing me in its hairy paws. I shuddered, feeling the pincers pierce my neck, sending streams of warm blood down my neck against the cold, only a few terrified Muggle children with their parents there to witness my gory, horrific end.

_Ron, you're an Auror. _

F*** you, mind! Not right now!

I heard Hugo's cries again and something tugged at my heart. I couldn't find my wand in the dark, so I grabbed the skeleton and pointed one of its bony legs in the direction of the spiders, ready to fight back if they were to attack. Sure, they were plastic, but I didn't trust anything with eight legs. Not after Aragog.

I made it inside and slammed the door from the safety of my living room, breathing heavily. There were enough creepy candles, awkward paper signs and messily done Jack-o-Lanterns around to last a lifetime and for Hermione to be satisfied. I ran into the room and burped Hugo (can't wait until he learns to do that himself) and then… passed out. Real manly of me. I'm going to go punch a wall to regain some of that later.

…

"Ron? Ron!"

Hermione was shaking my shoulder and I was stuttering something about spiders and babies and paper letters. And then she kissed me, putting my ramblings to an end.

Somehow her warm kiss made the entire night worth it.

"I got rid of them," She said apologetically. "I didn't think, I … I guess I just assumed you were over that."

I blushed, the tips of my ears burning. "I'm sorry for not being one of those book guys," I said quietly. "You know, the ones in your books who save women and run around being heroes without any fears. I'm not. I'm real, and I'm scared of spiders. There. End of story.

Hermione put a hand over my mouth, making me shut up again.

"No, "She said gently. "You're not a boy from a book. You're better. I can't do this to a book, now, can I?"

And with another touch of her lips the nightmare of a night faded into a memory.


End file.
